


Ms Lin's Gallery

by Stateless



Series: The Paths Untraveled [2]
Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Season/Series 05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 11:47:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13076229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stateless/pseuds/Stateless
Summary: How Justin came to work with his mentor and friend.Set after Chapter 8 of "The Paths Untraveled". It won't probably make much sense if you haven't read that one first ;-)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yep, I thought I was done with this universe, but Ms Lin wanted me to tell their story, so here I am!
> 
> As usual, times jumps and POVs are indicated.

Justin POV, **New York City, early march 2006**

 

After Brian left New York to return to Pittsburgh, Justin spent a couple of days in a daze. He went about his life mechanically, as if on auto-pilot: wake-up, have a cereal bar for breakfast, shower, work the lunch shift, paint, work the evening shift, paint, sleep. Except for the “paint” part. Besides the surge of inspiration he’d felt in the hours after Brian had left for the airport, and the night that had followed, Justin had felt stuck. Not for lack of ideas or subject matters, quite the contrary. His mind was reeling with memories of the weekend, of their talk, of the discoveries he’d made and the decision they’d taken. He tried to wrap his mind around it, to clear his thoughts or at least to transfer them onto the canvas, to no avail.

He could feel his frustration at himself growing. Brian was taking a huge risk to expand Kinnetik, and Justin knew, his lover had been really clear, that the decision wasn’t only driven by a professional rationale. It did make sense for the agency, that was indisputable, and Justin believed with all he had that it would be a success. But it was a personal decision too, and in spite of Brian’s reassurance, Justin could feel the weight of responsibility settling on his shoulders. Now was not the time to be stuck in a rut. He would not fail, he _could_ not fail. They’d sacrificed so much already, they were about to do so yet another time, to achieve their dream. Failure was simply not an option. He had to rise to the challenge, even if he had to kick his muse in the butt, and become the artist he’d always knew he could be.

On his off-day that week, Justin went back to Ms Lin’s gallery. When they’d made their plans, she’d seen his embarrassment at not having any personal vehicle, and she had been sweet enough to propose her van as a means for him to bring the paintings. So he made a first trip to Brooklyn to collect the van, and went back a few hours after with the canvas delicately wrapped in the trunk. Thankfully, Josh had been at the apartment to help him bring them down the ten, steep flights of stairs.

On instinct, Justin had added the only piece he’d managed to complete after Brian had left, on his night of binge-painting. It wasn’t as large as the others in size, but he liked the feel of it. He’d used the sketch he had made of Brian on the balcony as a starting point, and he felt he had recaptured the overall mood he’d had at that time faithfully enough.

He had used his computer to recreate Brian’s silhouette, leaning on the balcony as he watched in the distance. His face was not visible, but Justin had managed to translate the wistfulness he’d seen in his eyes and features in the line of the silhouette’s shoulders, in its tense, defeated stance, and in the dark colors he’d used. After he’d completed that part, Justin hadn’t felt done, though, so he’d printed the sheet and built on it. He had added an entire aura around the silhouette, large streaks of browns and dark reds, a dark, heavy sky weighing on the figure, casting a gloom, the feeling of impending doom on the canvas.

On a whim, he’d also added a shadow of light behind the silhouette, so faint it was almost invisible, the dream of a hand reaching to the figure and cradling its head in warmth.

After he arrived at the gallery, Ms Lin directed her handyman to bring the canvas into her back room to see them, and asked Justin for a moment alone to study his work. He left her in the room, and made his way to the front of the gallery.

At that hour in the early afternoon, the exhibition room was empty of patrons, so he took the time to check the paintings Ms Lin had chosen to display. He liked Ms Lin’s selection of works. All the pieces in the gallery were vibrant, meaningful, and Justin felt his art could fit in seamlessly.

After a few minutes of him studying the art, the bell at the front-door chimed and a middle-aged man entered. Justin saluted him politely and let him peruse the pieces in peace, keeping politely at a distance at the back of the room. Justin saw him stop in front of a painting he had noticed earlier. The man looked at it thoughtfully, and his voice was mild when he spoke.

“There’s something about this one I don’t quite know what to do with.”

Justin looked around him.  The man hadn’t addressed him specifically, but they were alone in the room. He hesitated, and he was about to go call Ms Lin, when the man spoke again.

“What can you tell me about it, young man?”

Justin’s education kicked in, and he replied without thinking.

“It’s powerful. The anger in the strokes is palpable, but there is real mastery in the colors used to attenuate it. The viewer is left to decipher the meaning, go beyong the first look to try and grasp the artist’s intent. It’s a complex work of art, really thought-provoking.”

Justin had walked closer to the man as he spoke, and he motioned with his hands to the features he was describing, trying to put his thoughts into words.

“See that deep green here? Green is supposed to be the color of hope, but the way the artist worked it, the thickness of the layer, the movement he gave his brush, the rawness and crudeness of the application, is full of violence. Wrath, almost…”

Justin was on a roll, letting the words flow out of his mouth as he watched the painting, the man beside him almost forgotten.

“And the overall impression is even more complex when you take in the reds. Red symbolizes anger, but look how subtly this deep one is worked in at the top, and how these lighter ones almost give in to the strokes of green? It’s delicate, gentle, the material is layered as thin as the finest embroidery, but it’s strong, too? There’s an elegance to its apparent weakness, a resistance in the way it bends to the anger… It really is a study in contrasts, in symbolisms. I don’t think you can ever understand it completely. And I don’t think you can ever get tired or bored, looking at such a piece of art.”

He stopped, almost breathless, and looked at the man. His eyes were transfixed, eyebrows furrowed in thoughts, as he watched the painting.

Justin heard a chuckle behind him, and turned around in surprise.

“Ms Lin! I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were here. I was about to-” he rushed to explain, before she cut him.

“It’s very okay, Dear, don’t you worry.” Turning to the man, she smiled widely. “Mr Thompson, it’s been a few months, how are you?”

“Ms Lin, always a pleasure to see you. Your young man here was telling me about this new piece of yours…”

Justin stepped back to let them talk together privately. Obviously the man was a regular client and Justin felt mortified he had so intruded in Ms Lin’s business.

_Well done, Taylor, you had to open your big mouth and ruin your chances._

He walked a bit further away from the two, still engrossed in their animated conversation. Ms Lin sent him a couple of smiles over the man’s shoulders, but Justin felt like crawling in a hole and never coming back out again. If his work hadn’t been in the back, he would have left on the spot, his shame heavy in his gut, but he had to wait for her to finish and face the fallout of his impetuous words.

It only took a few more minutes before the man took his leave with a kiss to Ms Lin’s hand and a wave sent Justin’s way. She turned back to him, and before she could start berating him, Justin started apologizing.

“Ms Lin, I’m so, _so_ sorry! I was about to come and get you, but he asked my opinion, I guess he thought I was an employee, and I don’t know why I opened-”

“Breathe, Mr Taylor, breathe!”, she laughed suddenly, cutting his rambling short. He could feel his face turn crimson in shame, but her smile and sparkling eyes took him aback.

“But-”

“It’s okay, Dear, you have absolutely no reason to apologize. At all! On the contrary, you have all my thanks.”

At his puzzled expression -he felt like a fish out of water, his mouth was gaping so wide- she chuckled again.

“You made quite an impression, Justin. I heard the bell, and I came up front when Mr Thompson arrived. I heard what you said about this painting, and it’s perfectly accurate. What’s more, you managed to hook one of my oldest, but also most difficult client.”

“I… what? I just babbled about the techniques…”

“And he obviously loved it, as he bought the piece!”

Justin was floored.

“But I’ve never sold any painting!”

“Well, Dear, you just did,” Ms Lin replied with a grin. “And you’ll have to tell me how you managed to sell one of my most complex pieces to a client who usually goes for the safest, most straightforward ones.”

He gaped. He’d only sprouted his impressions to the client’s ear, and he told her so.

“I think that’s why,” she replied. “You weren’t trying to sell it, you weren’t making a pitch. You were talking like an artist, and a talented one at that, and he liked it.”

“This man has never seen my art, how would he know I’m talented?” Justin replied, forgetting false modesty. He knew his worth, even if most galleries owners didn’t see it yet.

“He hasn’t, but your knowledge, your passion showed in your words. And anyways, he soon will witness it in person, Mr Taylor, if you agree to my proposal.”

Justin felt his heart quicken and something warm unfurl in his chest as his eyes widened.

“So you liked the pieces I brought?”

“If I liked them?” she said with a chortle. “Justin, I _loved_ them. They’re even better in person as they are in your portfolio. They’ll fit perfectly here, just like I thought they would.”

Justin was elated, and so shocked at the turn of events he couldn’t form words, but they were unnecessary as Ms Lin wasn’t done talking.

“There’s one I’d like to talk about, though, if you could come with me in the backroom?”

He was so giddy with excitement he almost blurted _I rarely pass an opportunity to visit a backroom_ , but thankfully he bit his tongue. He had an inkling as to what piece had grabbed Ms Lin’s attention, and was confirmed in his intuition when she stopped in front of the canvas.

At her signal, he explained how inspiration had come, although he never got into the details or mentioned Brian’s name. But his work had never hidden anything about him, not to whomever was patient enough to give it proper consideration, and it must have been even more transparent than usual.

“This silhouette…. It’s someone you love deeply.” She stated.

“With everything I am.” He replied sincerely.

“It shows.” She paused, and smiled ruefully. “Excuse my nosiness, and feel free to not answer if you don’t want to, but… could it be by any chance the charming gentleman I saw you with the other day?”

“Brian. Yes.”

“I see how he could inspire you, dear. He’s, simply put, a gorgeous man, but there’s something in his eyes….” She shook her head slightly, and looked at him apologetically. “Sorry, none of my business.”

Justin just smiled at her. He did like her, but he was not about to psychoanalyze his lover with a perfect stranger.

“Anyways”, she started again, “as we discussed, I’d like to expose the pieces we agreed on.” She motioned to the two large canvases. “Nothing too formal for a start, if that’s okay with you. I’ll just hang them up front with the other pieces, and see how they go with my regular clientele.”

Justin was over the moon. A chance to display his work, and to sell it if he was lucky? He readily agreed.

“But it’s not all”, she continued. “I really _love_ this new piece, and I’m sure you have a number of other works just as deep as that one, am I correct?”

Justin hummed agreeably in answer. He wasn’t sure where she was going.

“I plan on doing a special exhibition in a few months, with a couple of other upcoming artists who have the same sensibility as yours, and I would like to include this piece, and a few others if you have them, in the show. _That_ would be a formal affair, with an opening, invitations to my network, the whole shebang. What do you say?”

Justin was floored. He could only nod in disbelief.

“Good then! I’ll have to come and visit your studio soon, so we can select the right pieces together.”

After the high of her proposal, her words felt like an anvil smashing him back to earth. He blushed furiously.

“I… the thing is, I don’t have a studio space.”

“You don’t? But… where do you to paint?”

“I use my room, in the apartment I share with my roommate.”

She looked puzzled by the news, and turned back to his canvases.

“But, Dear, how do you manage to produce _these_ ”, she motioned to his artwork, “in such dire conditions? We have to remedy that.”

Justin watched her as she thought, and a light suddenly appeared on her face.

“I know!” She turned around with a large smile. “I have the perfect solution! Here is what we’re going to do. I have this room up there,” she motioned to the ceiling, “that I can’t use for exhibitions due to accessibility norms. I could lend it to you, to work on your art!”

“Ms Lin, that’s really lovely of you to propose, but I couldn’t possibly afford rent for-”

“Who mentioned rent? I said _lend_ ”, she said with a chortle.

“But…”

“There’s no _but_. You use the room as a studio, and in return, you help me man the gallery. I’ve been looking for someone anyways to help me since my employee Lucy left, so that would be perfect! You know your way around art, you’re charming, your manners are impeccable, the clients will love you!” 

Her smile was contagious, and Justin loved the idea. He was tempted to agree immediately, but there was one slight ( _glaring_ ) problem with her proposal.

“Ms Lin… I’m really, really flattered by your proposal, and your generosity. You have _no idea_ ,” Justin pleaded. He really wanted to make her understand how hard the refusal was on him, and that it had nothing to do with her. “But the thing is, I need to pay my rent, so I have to work. And my current, full-time job barely covers the expenses, so I really don’t see how I could manage both.” Regret was thick in his voice, and he felt like crying in frustration.

She laughed indulgently at his tone.

“Who said you would work for free?”

_What._

She took his hand in her small ones. Her eyes shone brightly, and her voice was soft as she spoke.

“Dear, I would pay you the hours you spend at the front, just as I would for any employee,” she said reassuringly. “And, obviously, you would receive a percentage of every sale you make. Except for your own art, then I would be the one keeping the gallery’s commission fee, and you would take the rest. I’m sure all in all, it would largely amount to your current salary.”

Justin froze for a second, then before he knew it, he’d taken the giggling woman in a tight hug.


	2. Chapter 2

**Brian POV, Pittsburgh, early March 2006.  
**

 

“Miss me already, Dear?” Brian said as he answered the phone.

“Brian! Oh my God, Brian, you won’t believe what’s happened!”

Brian’s blood froze at the breathlessness in Justin’s voice, images of _hurt-blood-pain_ rushing in front of his eyes.

“Justin! Are you okay, Jesus, are you-” he said frantically as he shot up from his chair, looking instantly for his car keys. A giggle interrupted him.

“Yes!!! I’ve never been better in my life! I can’t believe what’s happening, it’s so great I could sing!”

Brian slumped back in his chest, chest heaving, heart racing.

“For fuck’s sake, Justin, you scared the shit out of me.” He could hear the stress in his own voice.

“What? Oh, _oh._ I’m sorry, I was so excited I had to tell you immediately, I didn’t-”

Justin’s voice was bashful, so Brian cut him.

“It’s okay, don’t mind me. And tell me what has you so beside yourself.”

Justin’s voice was brimming with excitement as he told him the excellent news about the exhibitions, and Brian felt pride replace fear in his chest. He’d known, he’d always known Justin would make it. It was only a matter of time. That was the very reason why he’d let him go, why he’d gone against all his instincts and stomped on his own breaking heart. He would _never_ have forgiven himself if Justin had sacrificed his dreams for him. It was a cross he simply couldn’t bear. And for once in his life, he’d been right.

_That only makes the decision easier. I have to be there._

“And there’s more, Brian! You won’t believe it, _I_ can’t believe it, but she also offered me a studio space and a paid position at the gallery! I won’t have to bus tables anymore! No more grease stains on my clothes!”

Brian’s inquisitive mind awoke at that. _That_ was unheard of, and it sparked a feeling that there was more to the story that Justin would let on.

“My, My, Sunshine, what did you do to be granted such unprecedented deal?” he enquired, his voice suggestive and teasing. “Did you offer Ms Lin full access to your young, smoking-hot body? I hadn’t pegged her for a cougar, but that would certainly explain her eagerness to have you around.”

“My bo – hewwww, _NO_ , argh, Brian, she a _woman_!!” Justin sputtered in disgust on the line.

Brian laughed.

“Then what? You tell me she was so thrown by your justifiably great talent, and only that, that she just rolled the red carpet out for you?”

Justin muttered something in answer that Brian didn’t get.

“I’m not fluent in you youngsters’ mumbles, Justin, you’ll have to speak up.” He said patiently.

So Justin told him about the inadvertent sale he’d made.

And Brian burst out in laughter. Actual side-splitting, wheezing, tear-inducing, stomach-aching laughter. It took him a few seconds and a lot of effort to rein himself and stifle the giggles that had taken over his body before he was able to talk.

“Only you, Sunshine, only you could charm the pants off of a client and make a sale without even noticing!”, he managed between bouts of laughter. “Sometimes I do wish you had taken my offer to work for Kinnetik, you’d be way better that most of my execs.”

That last part was said teasingly, jokingly, and Justin knew it. Brian didn’t feel an ounce of regret. It would have been a tragic waste of Justin’s talent, and they would probably have ended up throttling each other. He felt the chortles quiet down enough to _hear_ Justin’s pout over the line.

“You’ll do great with the job, and with your art, Sunshine.” He said fondly. “As for your clients, they’ll eat in your hand.”

 

***

**New York City, September 2006**

 

A few months later, Brian was glad to see he hadn’t been mistaken. It was Justin’s opening night (and a few other artists’, too, but who gave a shit), and people were swarming around him like moths drawn to the light of his smile.

One of his pieces was featured prominently at the gallery’s entrance, and seemed to capture a lot of attention. Brian hadn’t needed to check the tag to know it was Justin’s. He’d known as soon as he’d seen it. He couldn’t pinpoint why exactly, but besides Justin’s unique style, there was something… _familiar_ about it. A feeling of déjà-vu, a mood that echoed in his gut from the dark, tortured image etched on the canvas.

_I’ll have to ask Justin about it._

He looked back at his lover a few feet away from him, deep in conversation with Ms Lin and a group of people, his face bright, his posture relaxed, the motions of his hands measured but full of life and energy as he pointed to one of his painting.

_God, he’s so beautiful._

The faces of the people around Justin all displayed some measure of barely-concealed awe. _As they should_. And Brian was more than happy to play the part of the devoted partner and fan he was, and to admire him in the light where he should be, surrounded by gushing professionals and clients, and to simply enjoy the show.

He spent a long moment entranced by the spectacle of his lover’s deserved success, until Justin used an apparent lull in the conversation to turn around and spot him. He excused himself and grabbed two glasses of champagne from a server before he made his way to Brian, his smile wide and happy.

“Hey.” He said softly as he passed a glass to him.

“Hey.” Brian replied, lost in his eyes.

Justin stepped closer to him, and brushed his shoulder against him as he turned around to survey the room. He stayed silent for an instant, letting Brian drink his perfect profile with his eyes, before he spoke, almost timidly.

“You have no idea how happy I am that you are here.”

“And you know perfectly I would have come, even if I wasn’t living in New York.” Brian replied matter-of-factly.

Justin looked at him, then, his eyes shining with joy.

“I know.”

 

Justin sold two of his pieces that evening alone. The celebratory sex they had that night, in their bed, in their apartment on the other side of the East river would probably qualify for lovemaking, as obnoxious as that word was for Brian. But he didn’t care. It was still among their top five fucks, ever, and _that_ was an achievement in and of itself.

And, Brian thought, he’d known there was a good ( _sap-free, publicly admissible_ ) reason he’d wanted to be there when Justin got his big break, after all.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I might add chapters in the future, if Ms Lin orders me so -the lady is bossy! - but that's it for now.  
> Hope you enjoyed.


End file.
